


While You Were Gone

by paceprompting



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst, Arthur Returns, Bottom Merlin, Explicit Sexual Content, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Protective Arthur, Reincarnation AU, Sad Merlin, Slow Burn, Top Arthur, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2019-08-27 06:31:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16697236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paceprompting/pseuds/paceprompting
Summary: Merlin's been alone in the failing remains of Ealdor, lonely and bitter as the years pass around him and Arthur never returns. Traveling to Avalon a last time, Merlin is fully prepared to end his suffering, but is instead finally rewarded for his centuries of waiting. Reunited, Merlin tries to acclimate Arthur to an entirely new life, unaware that Avalon did not bring back Arthur simply for him.





	1. Chapter I

Merlin was content.

Which is a complete and utter lie.

Merlin wants to be content. Complacent of a life utterly alone until humanity itself dies. Because his fate, his _destiny,_ was also a complete lie. His family, his friends died for nothing while he was punished with living on after them, clinging to the hope that he would ever see them again, in life or in death.

Oceans rose and empires fell. Plagues ravaged. People grew ignorant. World wars passed.

Arthur never came.

Albion was bombed to near oblivion and Arthur never came.  People were dying and suffering and crying for the promise that had long gone broken, and Merlin waited, but there was nothing from Avalon. Nothing from the lake.

His entire existence was a joke and Merlin wished that he could throttle that stupid dragon for ever telling him he was important. But he is entirely alone with no one to hate but himself for falling for pipe dreams.

His heart hurt for his mother. For Gaius and Lancelot and Guinevere. For Arthur.

He could barely leave his flat even on the days that didn’t plagued him with taunting memories, other than to travel mindlessly to Avalon, a three-day trip by train from the town that had once been Ealdor, slowly becoming part of the city to the north, sucking all the love that Merlin remembered from it away forever.

Most times, Merlin didn’t understand why he made himself travel to the shores. He just felt numb and stupid when he came back, unrequited, and still nothing changed. Other times, he thinks that his loneliness overcomes him enough that he wants to go back to his friends, the only people he loved.

He most often felt his loneliness on the anniversary of Gwen’s death. Many, many years after Arthur’s, but the anniversary dates only days apart.

Merlin hated the time of year.

Summer finally releasing its grip as fall slides into its place, the leaves turning burnt orange and red, and the sun always golden in the sky. How dare the world forget to mourn, Merlin thought. How dare it become beautiful and bright when the last true light died in his arms.

“I hate you.” He said toward the island, the only thing left for him to shout at once even the Sidhe had died, finally, in the 18th century. “You promised me everything and I have nothing.”

He stood at the shore, looking out at the island in utter agony as the beautiful sun shone on, mocking and ignorant. “You give me a gift and tell me to protect him and then let him die!”

Still, Avalon gives him no answer, and he grows angrier at it, and himself, because nothing has changed for centuries and centuries and he hates that he still hopes that it will. That the promise he had been given might be fulfilled. It fills him with rage.

“Take it back,” he seethes through clenched teeth, hot tears racing down his face and hatred consuming his soul. He digs his nails into the palms of his hands so deeply, blood drips from the curves onto the cursed ground. “If you won’t honor your promise, take it back and let me die.”

The waters lap at the land peacefully, and still nothing responds.

“Take the magic back!”

Never had the air around him roared so loudly or intensely as when the last remnants of Avalon’s power struck out at him with full force and seeped into his skin, through every nerve and muscle fiber, until he was in its clutch completely. At first it felt like the warmth of an infant’s first blanket, then Avalon pressed in on every one of Merlin’s bones and organs until he felt he might collapse and be crushed in its grip.

He thought he might finally die.

His throat burned as he found himself unable to breath and his pulse thundered in his ears until it could no longer keep up the pace and began to slow. Avalon was drowning him in its power, and Merlin was helpless to its whims, merely a pawn waiting to be sacrificed.

His magic flared in a final defense, against his own wishes, and Avalon clutched at it as well until it submitted to the greater power. Merlin sagged in relief as his magic relented and he waited for Avalon to finish its work and end the charade of him.

Instead, as quickly as it could have finally killed him, Avalon ripped itself from Merlin, taking his magic with it instead of his life, stripping every piece of his powers and immortality from him. He could feel his soul tear in half, and he screamed until his voice gave out, even though the raw pain of it still burned through every part of him.

He did not see where Avalon took his magic, having collapsed onto the ground, nerves in shock from the inordinate amount of pain that they felt. It was almost too much that they might not have been able to feel anything at all if Avalon had been merciful. But Avalon had no mercy for Merlin, he knew that much.

Merlin lay on the shores of Avalon in agonizing pain until the sun had already begun to set, painting the water with the fading colors of the sky, beautifully torturous. Merlin watched the waters, gasping and curling in on himself.

A breeze fluttered from the island across his face, and he flinched away, whimpering.

 _We are sorry, Emrys._ The voices of a long-silent religion whispered.

“You should have killed me.” He gasped, despair filling his lungs instead of air. “If I can’t have anything else, just kill me, _please_.”

He sobbed as the breeze blew over him again, gentle as his mother’s calming caresses, and he cried to the skies for it to stop.

_We have not forgotten you, Emrys._

“You lie!” He sobbed, voice breaking in his throat and heart breaking in his chest. “You are still lying!”

Avalon went silent, and Merlin cried, pressing his hands to his eyes as ugly sounds escaped from his raw throat. He lay on his back, crying, until he was too weak to even do that, cupping a hand over his mouth and curling onto his side.

He cried until he couldn’t breathe because of the hiccupping sobs and fell asleep before he could stop himself, giving in to the blissfulness of a dark, black sleep on the shores of Avalon.

~~~~

He woke up grumpily to the breezes of Avalon brushing a chill across his skin. His tears had barely dried on his cheeks, and either Avalon had not let him sleep long, or he had cried even in his sleep. He rolled over only enough to peer out at the waters and glare.

“Unless you’re ready to finish what I asked you, leave me alone.”

_We cannot, Emrys._

“I am _not_ Emrys.” He snarled, and rolled onto his back, arms laid over his eyes, stubborn as a young child. _If I was, I would have Arthur_ , he thought solemnly, sniffling in the following silence.

Avalon said nothing to him, only blowing over him in a continuous breeze like a train of thought searching for the right words. Merlin waited, impatiently tapping his foot, for Avalon to make good of its promises and either kill him or give back his friends.

 _You must be patient_ , Avalon whispered.

Fueled by a sudden burst of angry energy, Merlin whipped up and faced the island, poison dripping from his lips. “I have been _patient_ for centuries while you tortured me with the lives of the people I loved.”

 _Albion had no need_ –

“Fuck Albion!” Merlin shouted, “Albion is _gone_.”

The breeze faltered.

“It doesn’t need him,” Merlin whispered, voice ragged, dropping his head shamefully as tears raced again down his stained cheeks. “I do.”

~~~~

Avalon didn’t kill him.

Merlin didn’t ask it to again.

He sat in silence, staring at the ground while Avalon made sure he knew it was still there with a constant breeze blowing across his face. He supposed it could be pleasant, if he cared enough to enjoy it. Instead, he sat at the shores for hours, stripping grass from around him with sharp tugs.

“Am I mortal?” he finally asked, so quietly he could barely hear himself, twisting several strands of grass around his fingers and letting them go, watching the breeze take them away to settle on the water.

_Yes, Merlin, you will age._

He chuckled bitterly at the absence of his immortal name, and yanked up more blades of grass.

“No more magic?” he taunted, head cocked presumptuously.

The breeze paused, as if taking a breath to think, and Merlin glanced up.

“I felt you rip it from me.” He said accusingly.

The breeze blew more powerfully at him, a sharp reminder of the power he spoke to.

 _We did not take all of it. You still have a destiny, no matter how much you may disagree._ The voices chastised sharply in his ear, causing him to flinch into his shoulder.

“Fine.” Merlin sighed, looking back down to his hands, the cuts from his nails open and red. He couldn’t heal them with a thought anymore, he realized.

“I’m going home.” He sniffled as he stood, breathing out harshly as his throat tightened while he tried to fight tears. “And I’m not coming back here. Ever.”

_You will return, Merlin. You cannot fight your destiny._

“Don’t count on it.”


	2. Chapter II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone. Sorry for such a long wait for those of you that have been waiting. And for anyone that happened to read the last update, sorry for any confusion, but you kind of have to disregard that chapter. I totally scraped it. Again, many, many apologies. 
> 
> But, on a happier note, I like this version of Chapter 2 better, and I hope you will too.  
> Don't forget to leave kudos and comments!

Late November, and Merlin was at last in a place that he could look out the windows of his shop without grimacing. He didn’t stare at the ground just to avoid the sight of the leaves slowly changing colors and falling from the trees as he walked the streets.

He could breathe.

The trees were completely bare now. The clouds had come in, grey and heavy with the coming winter’s snow. The slight chill of autumn had become solid cold, and even if Merlin couldn’t be completely happy, he was more than blindly numb to his surroundings.

He finally opened the curtains in the bookshop, basking the shelves in crisp graying light. He even opened a window, taking a moment with his arms raised on the frame to close his eyes and breathe in the cold air. Winter was nice. Winter he could deal with.

Merlin loved his shop as much as he could love anything after centuries of losing things, and people, that he had loved. He’d built the frame with his bare hands, and stocked the shelves with their first books, until he’d had to go away to keep up appearances. But the shop would always be there, waiting for him to return after the people he’d left behind were only memories. He could try to keep from getting attached, but the haunting memories of other sorcerers gone mad in loneliness kept him from cutting himself off from others. To stay sane. To stay human.

It helped that he was like everyone else now. Mortal.

He could stay and run his shop, never having to duck out and leave it to the person he hoped he could trust to keep it going without him. He could make those lasting relationships with those who came into his shop, never saying in the back of his head that one day he would have to leave them, _so don’t get too close._

The bell to the shop door rang, and Merlin turned to greet the customer, a young boy bundled in a ginormous winter coat and blue ball cap, eagerly bouncing on his toes by the comic counter. Donning a genuine smile at the boy’s enthusiasm, Merlin slid behind the counter.

Before Merlin could even ask, the boy was pointing directly at the brand-new Batman. “Can I have this one?”

“Of course.” Merlin nodded, crouching down to slide open the glass case of the counter and place the comic in front of the boy, who eyed it urgently. Merlin rang up the comic and watched the boy run out of the shop gleefully, already flipping through the pages as he met up with, presumably, his mother outside.

Merlin appreciated the show of pure joy, a lasting smile staying on his lips, but the experience had left him uncomfortably and unexplainably saddened. He refused to delve further into the emotion, already knowing what was waiting for him behind that door.

~~~~~

Merlin absentmindedly grabbed a nearby pen as he rounded the counter, tapping the end on his palm while strolling around the store. The quiet helped him to clear his mind, his saddened mood slowly leaving him. He righted the occasional stray book, and set aside a few to read for himself.

Passing by the nonfiction section, something caught Merlin’s eye in the window.

The sound of his pen hitting his palm slowed as he turned to watch the next window, waiting to catch another glimpse, but more hoping that he wouldn’t.

Two seconds. Two pen taps.

A blonde head sauntered past the window, and Merlin’s breath caught. He knew that cut, that color. He wanted to run to the window and check, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t believe. He could gaze at the blonde figure until it went out of sight and then he was holding his breath, staring at the next window.

It took longer for the man to come by this time, or Merlin was too anxious to be patient. His heart thundered the longer he didn’t breathe.

Finally, the blonde figure appeared again in the window. The man had turned more to face in now, and Merlin could see him properly. The line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the shape of his nose compared to his eyes.

The man looked into the shop for a moment through the window.

Brown eyes. Not blue.

Merlin swore under his breath, throwing his pen across the room. He began pacing, breathing harshly with panic, hands clutched in his hair. _Stupid_ , he chastised himself. _Stupid, stupid._

He was past this. He was supposed to be past mistaking complete strangers for Arthur.

Hot tears ran down his cheeks and Merlin sobbed as he collapsed onto a counter. He couldn’t breathe because it _hurt_ ; because there was no _hope_. The spark that had kindled inside of Merlin for over a thousand years had been doused on the shores of Avalon.

Wiping at his eyes, skin hurt and raw, Merlin strode to the shop door, waving his hand over the lock habitually.

Nothing happened.

Cursing again, Merlin dug the key from his front pocket, fresh tears spilling down the bridge of his nose. There had never been a need for a key before, Merlin tried to reason with himself. Easy mistake.

Except it wasn’t.

Because he’d asked for this. This kind of life. _Magic-less._

Merlin turned the key to lock the door with a hard jerk and then threw the key across the counter. It slid until it fell over the edge and clattered onto the floor. Merlin scoffed, but otherwise ignored it as he set the second lock that bolted to the floor, sniffling and wiping at his nose.

Finally, after flipping the door sign to closed, Merlin thumped onto the wall and slid down to the floor, hiding his face in his knees with his arms boxed over his head. He breathed harshly, eyes tightly shut, unable to keep from the occasional hiccup or stray whimper and moan.

 _God, this was hard alone_ , Merlin thought.

~~~~~

It was stupid, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t thought it through, not even a little.

Large calloused hands ran up Merlin’s sides under his shirt, bunching up the fabric at his chest, exposing his skin to the cold. He shivered and his partner laughed, biting sharply at Merlin’s earlobe. Merlin gasped and turned his head to meet lips with the other man, biting softly at his lower lip in retaliation.

If Gaius, or Hunith, or, _god,_ Gwen, could see him now, he might have been able to gather up enough self-respect to extract himself from the grasp of the man who was rubbing off against his thigh, but he’d gotten too drunk to care.

Too drunk to care that when he ducked down to lick and kiss at Merlin’s stomach, the man could pass for the sturdily-built, blonde-haired nuisance of a person that Merlin wished he really was. Merlin could grip his fingers in that blonde hair and imagine that it was someone else, and that the cold wall of his flat was actually stone and the light from the lamp was a flickering fire burning in a hearth.

But then the man stood back up to his full height and the illusion was broken. He was too tall, basically towering over Merlin and his eyes were dark green instead of beautiful blue.

His vision blurred for a moment, whether from too much drink or burning tears Merlin would never find out, as his partner ducked his head into Merlin’s neck to start tonguing a mark near his pulse. Merlin arched his hips into the other man’s, moaning encouragingly while baring his neck.

“Bedroom, yeah?” His partner whispered in Merlin’s ear.

Merlin nodded, biting at the other man’s lips while he led them down the hall of his flat and through the open doorway of his room. He startled when the back of his knees hit the edge of his mattress, but his partner didn’t falter, leading Merlin down to lie on his back.

Merlin lay under the gaze of his partner. He watched as the man’s eyes flicked over him, fixing specifically on the area of exposed skin where Merlin’s shirt had ridden up.

It felt wrong. The gaze was wrong, and Merlin has to look away and hide his disappointment with a, hopefully, arousing stretch of his limbs and breathy gasp. His partner, as drunk as Merlin and probably ignorant of any dissatisfaction of Merlin’s, stepped between Merlin’s legs and slid a hand from his waistline up to his sternum.

Pleasure returned to Merlin in a hot flash and rumbled positively in his chest for his partner to feel with his exploring hand. Grinning, his partner removed his hand and worked on unbuttoning Merlin’s jeans and dragging them down and off his long legs.

Throwing the jeans across the room, his partner immediately hooked his hands under Merlin’s thighs, pulling Merlin forward to fit his erection between Merlin’s cheeks, still clad in underwear. His green eyes bore into Merlin’s, and the sight was unsettling Merlin’s poor, alcohol-raddled mind again. He hauled himself up, tightening his legs around his partner and cupped a hand at the back of his neck to pull him into the kiss. His nerves settled a bit and he and his partner rutted against each other, trading sloppy kisses.

His partner was strong, muscles built up more for show than from daily use of swords and horseback riding, able to hold Merlin up at his awkward angle with out complaint, and his moans rumbled in his chest like Merlin could remember seeing and hearing from Arthur while he had been sleeping fifteen hundred years ago.

It felt good, this deception.

 **_No, Merlin_ ** _._

Merlin shook his head, dismissing the words as the remnants of his common sense trying to knock him back into reality. He rid his partner of his shirt, scratching his nails down the man’s back as they rocked harder against one another.

 _Merlin, stop this **now**_ **.**

He bristled.

Avalon.

“ _Shut up_.” He hissed through a particularly hard kiss, trying to hide his words from his partner, but not from that damned island.

“What?” His partner breathed, pulling back slightly to give Merlin a curious stare.

“Nothing,” he assured, using one hand to undo the button on his partner’s trousers. “Keep going.”

His partner opened his mouth to argue, but Merlin reached far enough down his pants to wrap a hand around his arousal, and any dispute died on the man’s lips. Merlin chuckled lightly and stroked his hand slowly, easing them both back into their earlier frantic state.

As their lips met again, a raucous clap of thunder and flash of lighting filled Merlin’s bedroom along with the booming, furious voice of Avalon shouting, **_Merlin!_**

While oblivious to Avalon itself, his partner still felt the effects of the sudden thunder and lightning, as well as Merlin shouting and jumping away from him onto the bed. Merlin lay sprawled on his bedspread, disheveled and panting as Avalon accosted him, not with words, but with waves of pure fury, which only intensified as his partner reached forward and cradled his ankle.

 _Fine!_ , Merlin assented, yanking his ankle away. Avalon stopped its effects immediately, and relief punched Merlin in the chest.

 _Send him away, Merlin_. Avalon ordered.

Merlin huffed, but sat up and turned to his partner. “You need to leave.” He said quietly.

Anger curled his partner’s features. “What, because of a little thunder and lightning?”

“ _No_ ,” Merlin snarled. “because I said s—” he cut himself short, clenching his fists and breathing in and out deeply. He met the disappointing green eyes of his partner.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, curling his legs under him. “I thought I was ready…for this. But I’m not.” The words came easily to Merlin, and his heart panged with guilt as he found that he wasn’t completely lying.

“Hard breakup, huh?” His partner said bitterly. Merlin nodded, throat suddenly dry. “Fine. Figure yourself out, I’ll be at the Dandelyan.” His partner buttoned his trousers and collected his shirt in frustrated silence, stomping out of Merlin’s flat in under five minutes.

“Satisfied?” Merlin asked the empty air in his bedroom, bracing his head against the heel of his hand with a groan, a sharp ache beginning to emerge. He needed more alcohol.

_There are greater things coming that you will need a sound mind for._

Merlin scoffed. “ _Greater things?_ Greater things passed centuries ago, while you were busy ignoring me.” Merlin could hear the breezes of Avalon blowing past his window.

_We have not forgotten you._

“Yeah, you said that.” His headache flared and Merlin winced, slowly lying down and burrowing under a blanket, hand still pressed to his forehead. Avalon had no response for his snarky comment, and Merlin slowly fell into a deep sleep, preparing for his first hangover since the sixth century.

He was unaware of the dark clouds rolling in from the east, emerging from the storming waters of Avalon.

_Be ready, Emrys._


	3. Chapter III

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. Long time, no see. Sorry to all who have patiently waited for the very, very long wait between chapter two and chapter three. But now it is finally here, and I really hope you all enjoy it. As always, please leave kudos and comments, as they are greatly appreciated!! 
> 
> Also, thank you to @whooisitmurder from Tumblr for beta reading for me, I can't express how grateful I am with only 1250 characters, but hopefully this story being amazing from your help will be an amazing thanks to you.

****

The world was falling apart.

All the blue of the sky had been blacked out by giant, ominous clouds, which had been raining down a steady stream of hailstones since Merlin had opened the shop. The shop in turn had become a safe haven for those stranded outside, Merlin and his under-used tea kettle struggling to keep everyone warm and calm as the hailstones increased slightly in size and claps of thunder started to rumble through the atmosphere.

Merlin had begun to notice flashes of lightning in the distance, his nerves filling with its electricity at the sight.

It was coming from Avalon.

He bit at his thumbnail as he made another round through the crowd with a fresh kettle of hot water and the packets of tea bags and hot chocolate. If anyone noticed his nervousness, they refrained from mentioning it, returning his small smiles as they took their drinks. 

He strode back to the front counter in a daze, setting down the kettle and packets to absentmindedly chew on his nail and stare at the floor, tapping his foot anxiously. There was no reason for him to feel so jittery because the storm seemed to be coming from Avalon. There was a lot of other landmarks and cities between him and Avalon. And he _wasn’t_ Emrys anymore.

His responsibility had been stripped from him months ago.

A loud clatter brought Merlin out of his thoughts, startling the crowd and caused a haunted hush to fall across the shop. Merlin’s gaze flitted around, searching for the source of the loud _smack! smack! smack!._

He exhaled shakily.

It was just a window blown open by the strong wind.

Slightly more relaxed, Merlin gave the nervous crowd a soothing smile, weaving through them quickly to close and latch the window. He ran a hand down the wooden frame, patting it comfortingly before turning back to the crowd watching him earnestly.

“Nothing to worry about, guys.” He assured, ignoring the instinct deep in his gut telling him otherwise. He grinned, and teased, “Maybe just stay away from that window.”

A few chuckled, easing some of the tension, and the crowd went back to themselves, chatting softly.

As Merlin neared the center of the crowd, moving slowly through them so as to keep from disturbing them as much as possible, he noticed another flash of lightning as a sharp crack of thunder sounded. Everyone jumped at the thunder, but, again, no one but him seemed to notice the lightning.

His nerves thrummed frantically with his heartbeat, and Merlin flexed his fingers, feeling overwhelmed with energy that had no place to go inside him and was fighting to get out. He felt on edge, like his body was prepared for a great battle or arduous spell.

He felt strangely alive.

Strangely magical.

 _Merlin_.

The voices flooded his ears along with another crack of thunder. His hard flinch was hidden among the crowd’s, but his shaking would be sure to get their attention. The energy overfilling him no longer felt so invigorating, and instead filled him with immense dread.

 _Merlin_ , the voices called again, this time without thunder or lightning, which meant Merlin’s flinch was noticed by the woman next to him, who placed a hand gently on his arm.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly, careful not to draw the attention of anyone else around them. Her eyes glittered with genuine compassion, and Merlin wished he could spill out his heart, but another flash of lightning in the corner of his eyes had him biting his tongue.

“Yeah, yeah, just fine. Don’t really like storms.” He lied, while Avalon called again, insistent as the wind outside picked up dramatically. This time, Merlin was careful not to flinch.

The woman nodded, rubbing a soothing touch into Merlin’s arm before releasing him and turning back to her friends. Merlin decided that she had earned an extra tea or hot chocolate, once he had dealt with the aggravating voices, still insisting he notice them.

 _Merlin, do not act as a child_.

“I’m _not_.” Merlin growled under his breath, apologizing quickly to a man who thought Merlin’s anger was directed at him. Moving forward, he continued in a whisper, “I’ve moved on, you _stupid_ island. Maybe you can do the same.”

The window he had just righted clanged open again, and Merlin, as well as many members of the crowd, jumped and spun to face it. Merlin’s throat went dry and he was shaking violently, but he still managed a quiet, “You can’t frighten me into submission.”

Another clap of thunder.

Merlin still stood stubbornly where he was.

The hailstones rained down harder, having grown larger again, and smacked dangerously against the windows.

“That your best shot?” Merlin taunted under his breath, wary of those standing around him, but feeling his adrenaline pump made him wild and daring enough to push Avalon further.

Suddenly, the wind quieted and the hailstones slowed to a small patter. There was no flash of lightning or rumble of thunder.

Merlin eyed the surroundings outside.

All at once, the wrath of a power older than civilization crashed into the little shop with a tremendous and deafening roar, shattering the windows and tearing through the shelves with merciless fury. The crowd screamed and dove to the floor, covering their heads.

Except for Merlin, who remained standing as glass rained around him, cutting into his exposed face and hands.

But what flowed across his wounds was not the frigid air of a storm, but the familiar warmth of a friend that’s come home. Merlin watched as golden tendrils drifted across his skin and then seeped through into his veins. Like falling into an addiction, Merlin embraced that feeling of the energy that filled him, raising and upturning his hands and focusing his intents on everything around him.

The air slowed, raining glass and hailstones stopping in midair at Merlin’s command. He breathed deeply as he curled his hands faced down and focused first on sending the hail out of his shop. They floated easily out of the gaping holes that had once been his windows, and Merlin smiled.

This was his magic. It listened to him with eagerness.

He could feel his eyes burning a molten gold.

As he began to form the pieces of sharp glass back into their places as his windows, Merlin could see the golden essence of his magic bleeding back out of his skin, leaving him as it was no longer needed.

He had no true control of it. It existed outside of him now, and Avalon was merely allowing him to use it for a time.

As the last piece of glass was put back in its place, the last of Merlin’s magic left him in a rush. He gasped, the harshness of his magic being ripped from him a fresh wound in his heart. Around him, the crowd was slowly standing, checking each for injuries, which Merlin had saved them from, and questioning what had just occurred. They turned to their host for answers, only to find the space where he had been standing empty, but the front door to the shop wide open.

~~~~~~

When Merlin ran out the door of his shop, he stumbled right onto the shores of Avalon. He spun quickly to look back, but the store, the street, the entire city had disappeared and been replaced with trees thrashing in the wind.

The storm raged around him with immense ferocity, whipping hail and rain at Merlin, but he was able to stand his ground against it, facing the waters of Avalon that were frothing and whipping as wildly as the wind, drenched to the bone and cut up from glass.

“You want me for some _greater purpose_?” He shouted. “Well, I’m here! You’ve won!” The storm continued in a frenzy around him, but the winds carried no voices from the island.

Merlin’s anger bubbled inside him. “Is this some kind of punishment? Taunting me with promises, with _my magic_ , only to take it away and abandon me!” His voice tore from his throat, harsh and ragged, hot tears mixing with the freezing rain on his face.

There was a blinding crack of lightning and boom of thunder, and the wind swirled madly around Merlin. He flinched as stray branches and other debris hit his body and cut his hands and face, but he shouted out into the downpour. Damn if he was going to lay down and be abused by a forgotten island.

“The once great Avalon reduced to tormenting that last magical being in existence!” Merlin threw his hands down from covering his face, braver now with his words. “I bet you couldn’t bring back a mouse, much less the true King of Britain!”

A great gust of wind hit Merlin square in the chest, sending him flying back onto the flooded grass. He landed square on his shoulder, but refused to stay down, rolling onto his side to clamber to his feet, holding his shoulder gingerly.

“You need me?” He shouted. “Then take whatever’s left and _leave_. Go back to your reclusive existence and leave everything else to suffer. Just ike you did to _Albion._ Like you did to _me_ ,” The whipping winds raised in ferocity, but still Avalon was stubbornly silent.  

Anger rushed through Merlin like a torrent, and through gritted teeth he spat out, “Like you did to _him._ Your beloved Once and Future King, _dead_ in a lake.”

The earth shook with the immense force of the thunder that Avalon released in retaliation, and the sky turned a bright white with a matching crack of lightning. Merlin’s heart lodged in his throat, beating wildly, but he refused to bend to Avalon’s will, standing amongst the assault.

He said nothing now, but raised his chin at the island, narrowing his eyes in challenge.

The wind whistled passed Merlin’s ears, carrying the voices of Avalon.

_You are acting as a child, Merlin._

Merlin scoffed aloud, gesturing out to the city. “Me? You’re  _flooding_ all of England to get my attention!”

_If you wish to help the mortals, you need a sound mind. Not anger and bitterness._

“Oh, my God!” Merlin laughed sarcastically, pacing back and forth in utter amazement. His shoulder twinged with the poor care he was taking to keep it still. “You’ve already taken my magic and are trying at my sanity. What do you _want_ from me?”

 _Faith,_ the voices whispered, and Merlin froze, wind snapping across his face. He flinched and turned away, the cuts on his face stinging in the cold. Avalon continued, _Faith, and you will receive what you have asked for_.

For a cruel moment, Merlin thought of Arthur, lying dead at the bottom of the lake.

“Don’t make false promises to me again.” He hissed. “Just stop.  _This_ , everything. There’s no point.”

Amidst the fierce winds of the storm, a gentle gust blew across Merlin’s nose with the whisper, _It is not a lie. You will be given back what you have lost._

Traitorous hope filled up his chest, and he let out a pitiful half-sob, too hurt with centuries of longing to know whether or not to believe the words true.

 _Faith, Merlin_ , Avalon whispered again, its quiet tone contrasted by the sudden, _sharp_ cut of a branch along his cheek. Merlin hissed and brought a hand up to the stinging skin, bright red blood coming away on his fingers.

“Faith?” He murmured, half dazed.

 _And blood_. Avalon whispered. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. sorry that there's no Arthur this chapter, but he's coming really soon


	4. Chapter IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all. Thank you for waiting so patiently for this next chapter, I'm very excited about it. As always, kudos and comments are always appreciated and I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Merlin could only stare at his hand, at the red stain of his blood on his fingers. Somehow it had become synonymous with proof. Bright red proof that he  _ wanted _ Arthur and that Avalon would give him back. 

He watched, dazed, as a drop of blood slipped down his finger to fall onto the grass by his feet. The ground shuddered, and the drop glowed a blinding gold before absorbing into the ground. 

The storm’s intensity increased as if charged by Merlin’s blood, the force of it making Merlin waver on his feet. His mind was as unsteady as his legs, and a strong gust at his back sent him toppling forward.

He fell, barely managing to brace himself with his hands before he could smash his face in the dirt. Immediately his hand began to sting, the blood on his fingers glowing gold and sliding off his skin and into the grass. 

As his blood disappeared into the ground, the storm and winds grew stronger and more violent. Merlin bowed his head to escape the debris of branches and stones now flying around him, but still he could feel sharp cuts and impacts as Avalon continued its onslaught. 

A wounded cry escaped his throat as Merlin felt something large and jagged cut across his forearm and he stared at the deep gash marring him. Along his arms and hands – even on his face, Merlin could feel – were smaller bruises and cuts, but the gash was something different. Something made with intent. 

Avalon wanted him to  _ bleed _ .

Merlin stared at his arm as his blood started to slide down the curve of his arm, a bright scarlet against his pale skin, and turn gold as it reached the ground and Avalon drank its power up greedily. 

_ You  _ are  _ magic, Merlin _ , Avalon said, voices now stronger than a whisper and pounding in Merlin’s head. 

He could feel the sharpness of more cuts being made along his arms and his hands, feel the heavy drip of his blood seeping into the ground, each becoming a golden tendril that slowly tightened and bound Merlin in place. 

He couldn’t move if he tried, if the blood loss hadn’t already started to made his head spin. He groaned pitifully and stared dazedly out at the roaring waters of Avalon.

_ It is in your blood.  _ Merlin heard Avalon say, barely registering another wound being cut into his side by a jagged rock. 

He was so tired. He just wanted to close his eyes and escape the torture of his reality. He couldn’t feel the cuts anymore, or his blood being slowly leached from him. There was just Merlin, lying on the ground, thinking of…

Of Arthur.

Of cold. 

Of pain.

_ And our power _ . 

Avalon’s voices roared through Merlin’s head, surging up through its tethers connected to Merlin and  _ taking  _ everything it could in a surge that left Merlin boneless and half-alive. 

Merlin could feel the ground, even the sky, quaking as Merlin’s blood fed Avalon enough power to rip the universe apart, with Merlin powerless to do anything but watch.

Blearily, Merlin thought he could see something emerging from the water, being thrown to the shore over and over while the waves crashed into it over and over. 

He dismissed it, his mind too far gone, and submitted to the longing to close his eyes. He was still tethered to Avalon by his blood, and still it was sucking away everything inside him, slowly,  _ so slowly _ , ending him.  

Merlin lay on the grass in the pouring rain, amidst flying stone and branches, cracking lightning and booming thunder, feeling less and less of it as he drifted off into the darkness. 

After a moment, he could feel nothing,  _ sense  _ nothing but the rasping in and out of his own breath.

It was getting harder to breathe in, he realized.

Something thumped on the ground by his head, a quick  _ one-two-three _ . He didn’t know how to rationalize the sound enough to wonder what it was.

Distantly, somewhere in the back of his muddled mind, he could feel something pulling his body away, against the binding that Avalon had trapped him with, struggling to free him. Again, in that faint part of his brain, Merlin could hear shouting…or was it pleading?

With a final and desperate pull, Merlin was yanked painfully from his bindings. 

He screamed. 

~~~~~~

He came to in random bursts.

At first, it was only a split second. Just a sudden flash of white light and then back into darkness. 

The next, there was a feeling. A sensation of someone’s hand cradling his head, stroking his jaw. Before he went back under, Merlin thought fleetingly of his mother tending to him while he was sick.

Finally, there was a voice. And Merlin nearly bristled thinking it was Avalon invading his head again.

Instead, it was something heavenly. Soothing.

“I know you’re still here. Still fighting.” Merlin preened and tried to make his eyes open. Tried to come back from the darkness to that voice.

“You’re too stubborn to let this beat you.” Merlin’s heart beat stronger, faster, and life filled his veins.

“Aren’t you,  _ Mer _ lin?”

~~~~~

Merlin woke on his side, head pillowed on his arm. It ached horribly, like some bug had decided to burrow its home in his skull. But he was breathing, fully and strongly, not the weak rasps he last remembered. 

Gently, he stretched out his arms and legs, brushing the rough texture of tree bark with his fingers and solid ground at his feet. His muscles were sore, but nothing flared too badly with pain as he slowly sat up.

He was still at Avalon. The area was disastrous, riddled with broken branches and torn up ground, but the waters had calmed to a normal, gentle rise and fall against the shore and Avalon had yet to say a word.

He hadn’t realized that the cuts Avalon had made in him were still there until they throbbed, his mind slowly coming back into focus so he could feel the dull pain of Avalon’s onslaught. His bare arms were streaked with dried blood, and he could feel more on his back and legs...but the cuts themselves had already begun to heal, the ones on his arms at least not as deep as they had been. 

He knew he hadn’t healed them himself, not without his magic. 

_ Avalon  _ had healed him. 

His skin crawled and a chill went up his spine. It had nearly bled him dry,  _ demanded  _ it, and then stitched him up just enough to keep him alive as some kind of feeble apology.

Merlin looked pointedly away, hugging his knees to his chest and leveling his breathing as his rage spiked his heart rate. It pulled on his cuts, but he preferred the discomfort, finding something tangible to ground himself to.

No good losing his head now, especially when it felt near to breaking to pieces.

He wondered if it already had as he noticed a black leather boot off to his side.

His breath caught as Merlin followed the line of the boot up, until his gaze stopped at the sight of blue eyes. The blue eyes that had last been dimmed with death, but were now full of light. And caught on him.  

“Hello, Merlin.”

Merlin gaped at him, at  _ Arthur _ , sitting in front of him, speaking in the same voice Merlin had wished for for fifteen hundred years.

“ _ No _ .” 

It was a trick. A horrible, torturous deceit to finally finish him off.

Merlin scrambled to his feet, panic rising up in his throat and choking him, but he had barely taken a step before his head swam, the effect of his blood loss rushing through him in a torrent. He started to tip over, the ground coming up to him very quickly, but then Arthur was  _ there _ , catching him mid-fall and guiding him gently back into a sitting position. 

Merlin clutched at Arthur’s wrists, staring at him like he’d never seen another human being in his life, but he didn’t dare stop.

It had  _ worked _ .

Merlin swallowed, his throat dry and scratchy, making his voice sound weak and quiet.

“Arthur?”

“Yeah,” Arthur smiled, and Merlin nearly sobbed at the sight, cupping a hand at the side of Merlin’s head. “It’s me.”

Merlin leaned into the touch, so grateful just to have it in something other than a dream and raised his hand to his mouth, beginning to laugh. He couldn’t do anything else, so overwhelmed with joy, and something strong stamping down his grief. Like love. Like pure, unfiltered wonder.

Arthur gave him a strange look, eyebrow raised.

“You have  _ not  _ changed, Merlin,” He stated, removing his hand and standing to his full height. “Still strange as ever.”

Merlin stopped laughing and stared at Arthur incredulously, mouth open and stunned. 

Then Arthur gave Merlin another smile, bright and wide and beautifully familiar, and Merlin didn’t care. 

Arthur had returned. Nothing else mattered but that.

~~~~~~

“Where’s your armor?” 

“Hm?” Arthur looked over at Merlin, blue eyes trained on him, and Merlin almost forgot his question. 

He took a steadying breath, and asked again, “Your armor. You were wearing it when you…” Merlin faltered, breaking Arthur’s gaze. Another breath. “ _ Before _ . But you’re not wearing it now.”

Instead, Arthur was wearing the red shirt that had lost its ties, leaving nearly half of Arthur’s chest exposed, and been restricted to only being worn under Arthur’s armor. Merlin intentionally refused to stare, but his resolve had always been a bit loose when it came to Arthur.

Arthur made an affirming noise, and turned his head back to look at the grass he was digging up with his fingers. “I came back with it on, but it was getting heavy and cumbersome. I stashed it over there.” He pointed somewhere off to their left.  

“You took off your own armor?” Merlin snickered.

“Yes, you  _ prat _ .” Arthur chucked a handful of grass and dirt at Merlin, who ducked, pulling sorely at his cuts, but continued to laugh as Arthur tried to give him a sour look around his urge to smile.

For a moment, it was like nothing had happened. 

They were still in Camelot, on a hunting expedition, and Merlin was being insolent, as usual, and Arthur was pretending like he didn’t enjoy someone not jumping over themselves to please him. 

The pleasant moment slowly faded, and at its end, Arthur was back to picking at the grass while Merlin watched him, waiting for the trick to end or lighting to come down from the sky and kill them both. He wasn’t sure he would ever get past the small pit of unease he felt in his stomach underneath his happiness at having Arthur back.

“Was there something else you wanted to ask me, Merlin?” Arthur questioned, not looking up from his hands. 

Merlin fidgeted nervously until Arthur looked at him again, not in irritation, but to give Merlin something to focus on amid his anxiousness. 

“Do you remember,” Merlin stopped, needing to swallow and get a grip, even though his throat felt ready to close up. “Remember, um…being…” He fiddled with his hands, unable to get out the words. 

“That I was dead?” Arthur supplied, a little too quickly to not have been as anxious about the topic as Merlin. Merlin noticed his hands shaking as Arthur wiped them on his trousers, blue eyes looking around everywhere except for Merlin. 

He recognized the shield going up. Of Arthur becoming the King of Camelot and hiding away the man behind the responsibilities. The shield he put up when a wrong look in his eye could mean starting a war. 

“Yeah.” He said quietly, nodding while Merlin’s heart caught in his chest. He hadn’t really expected that, instead having spent hours on what to say…how to break it to Arthur that he’d  _ died _ , that the world had gone on without him - before he’d given up on Arthur coming back.

They sat in silence, neither looking at the other. 

Arthur cleared his throat, taking deep, slow breaths in the way Merlin remembered him doing when something weighed on his mind and his shoulders.

“Merlin.” 

“Yeah?”

“How long?”

“Since?”

Arthur gave him an annoyed glare, and Merlin felt a pang of guilt low in his stomach. He should just say it, he knows. Merlin was Arthur’s only connection between the life Arthur had known and the one he’d been thrown into. But still, Merlin wanted to keep the truth a secret, although he wondered why. 

Merlin can see the tears brimming in Arthur’s eyes, and knows ‘why’ immediately. He wanted to give Arthur an out. An excuse to ask a different question to spare him the heartache.

“Fifteen hundred years.”

Arthur stared at him for a moment as Merlin’s words swirled in his mind. Then, in the second that Arthur looked away, Merlin saw his shield shatter, and the man under the crown come into full view. 

Arthur curled into himself, head between his knees and arms wrapped around his legs. Merlin could hear the dry, dismal sob Arthur let out and began to feel his eyes burn with his own tears as centuries of deaths came back to him. Of a grief that had washed over an entire kingdom and taken hold in Merlin’s heart.

Arthur raised his head and cupped a hand to his mouth, muffling his short, hiccupping breaths. His shoulders shook with each ragged breath, and tears flowed freely down his face, collecting around his fingers. 

Merlin saw Arthur’s wedding ring, glinting in the sun, and looked down at the grass, the guilt sitting heavily in his stomach expanding.

Suddenly, everything felt wrong. 

Arthur stood abruptly, wiping harshly at his eyes as he strode to a clearer area nearby, less razed by the devastation of his return.. He paced miserably back and forth, pulling his hands through his hair, face twisted in anguish, visibly fighting every urge to simply break down. 

Merlin watched him, leaning forward to rest his chin on his knees pulled up to his chest. His chest ached, as though a hole was being dug through the middle of his heart, pushing the pain of his cuts to the recesses of his mind. The pang of his own grief tugged at him, but he knew his pain was not the same as Arthur’s. 

For Merlin, they had gone one by one. 

He mourned with the others, burying his friends until there had been no one left. He’d grieved for the knights lost in battle, and those that had managed to grow old with partners and children. He’d cried over their graves and hurt when he kept waking up year after year with fewer familiar faces around him. 

But that had been  _ years. _

For Arthur, they were gone in an instant. 

Merlin couldn’t watch Arthur any longer, shifting so his head lay on its side and he was watching a patch of beat up trees, the remaining limbs swaying in a lulling rhythm. He watched them, letting his mind wander listlessly in the back of his thoughts, only focused on the back and forth of the tree branches, barely hanging on to their tree, but still refusing to let go.

He felt the slow run of tears down his cheeks, and he let them fall.

Merlin heard soft footfalls as Arthur made his way back to Merlin, lifting his head to watch the man carefully, making no move toward him or to restart their conversation.

Arthur stopped in front of him, eyes red-rimmed and cheeks pink from rubbing, his hands settled on his hips. He stared at the ground, biting his lips, breaths still shaky even though he tried to keep them quiet. Arthur’s grief was so raw, so  _ present  _ that Merlin was surprised he had even come back over.

Merlin watched him patiently, tapping his fingers against his leg to quell the urge to stand and comfort Arthur. To wrap his arms around his shoulders and let him cry. 

Arthur looked up from the ground suddenly, and in a ragged whisper said, “What.  _ Happened _ .” His gaze had locked intently on Merlin, and his hands shook in fists at his side. Merlin met Arthur’s forceful gaze, wary of the tattered remains of Arthur’s shield barely holding together in his eyes. 

“I  _ saw  _ you.” Arthur’s jaw clenched, hardening into a defined line as his gaze bore into Merlin. “I came back and I saw you, and you weren’t any different. Not  _ that  _ much. Not…” Arthur’s face fell in anguish, and he turned away, raising a hand to rub harshly at his eyes.

“ _ Arthur _ …” Merlin moved to stand and go to Arthur, but Arthur stepped back, holding out his other hand.

“ _ No _ . I can…just give me…” Arthur’s haggard voice broke, and he nearly tripped over his own feet trying to make distance between himself and Merlin. He sniffled and wiped his hand across his face, steadying himself and shivering as the wind picked up. 

Merlin bristled when the breeze hit his face, and almost looked over his shoulder to see if the dark clouds had started to form in the sky or if the water of the lake would begin to pick up. Anything that would mean Avalon had changed its mind and was going to rip Arthur from him like it had ripped out his magic. 

Merlin’s attention was diverted back to Arthur as he began to speak again, staring blankly off into the broken trees, hands down at his sides, shaking. 

“I thought it had only been a few years, not… _ not centuries _ .” His shaking hands clenched into fists and his head bowed forward so that his gaze was fixed firmly on the ground, tears slipping down his nose.

“I saw you and I thought everything was going to be okay.” Arthur whispered. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry Merlin's always sad. I promise he won't always be so sad. My poor baby.
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed Chapter IV. Don't forget to leave kudos and comments, I love seeing how you guys are liking the story. Feel free to come visit me on Tumblr @paceprompting. I take writing prompts whenever I can, so you'd want me to write something, don't be shy! <3
> 
> And special thanks to @watermellapples from Tumblr for beta reading for me. I so, so, so appreciate their help.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Sorry for the stupidly long break between chapter four and chapter five, but I've graduated now and will definitely have more time to write this fic. As of right now, this chapter is un-betaed, but is in the process of being beta read, so please excuse any mistakes until further notice. :)
> 
> Also, trigger warming , Merlin does have a panic attack and both Arthur and Merlin do not handle it well. Please, if you do have panic attacks, speak to a medical professional or someone you trust.

They didn’t stay by the lake.

Neither said it to one another, but when Merlin stood and began walking to the path leading away from Avalon, Arthur followed him.

Arthur let Merlin lead, the occasional crunch of a leaf or scuff of his foot against a rock the only reminder to Merlin that Arthur was still trudging through the early winter’s chill with him. They were both shivering, arms crossed tightly over their chests, but neither voiced a complaint.

Arthur was silent as he followed behind Merlin, leaving Merlin’s mind to wander dangerously in the silence. His muscles were tensed from bracing headfirst into the cold, but the intense tightening in his shoulders remained simply because of the aching feeling low in Merlin’s gut.

Arthur was back. Alive. Healthy. Seemingly un-cursed or enchanted. It still didn’t even seem real.

But Avalon had nearly killed Merlin in the process of bringing Arthur back, a fact he was reminded of in every dull tug of the cuts still healing all over his body.

Merlin was wary of Avalon’s true motives, memories of its unmerciful actions over the centuries pushing at the front of his mind. He knew better than to believe that even his life, his _blood_ and magic, were enough of a price for Avalon in exchange for Arthur.

At any moment Avalon could decide to rip Arthur from his grasp. If Merlin angered it again, or even if he didn’t, Avalon held Merlin’s heart in its hands.

_If he relaxed, even for a moment, would Avalon take Arthur back?_

His heart pounded, the sound growing louder and his hands began to shake. He blinked furiously as he walked into the trees and wondered whether that strange sound was the wind or him struggling to breathe. With every step, Merlin’s doubts grew, and the belief that Arthur had truly returned was fading. Was Arthur really behind him, or had Merlin finally descended into madness, and was walking alone toward the lonely city?

Merlin stumbled, barely catching himself on a tree, his heart pounding in his ears and his muscles tightening up. His shoulder shook violently as Merlin clutched a hand to his throat, struggling to control his short, gasping breaths.

_What if it wasn’t real at all? What if he was still lying in a storm, slowly being bled dry?_

Merlin’s throat closed up and his body clenched tightly, like a rubber band stretched too far.  He reached out and gripped the nearest tree branch, leaning on it for support when his vision blurred. His lungs burned as he fought to breathe, and couldn’t pick apart the thoughts of – _He was there. You **touched** him. You **talked** to him. – _from – _You’ve been alone for fifteen hundred years, why would he be here **now**?_

 Everything was banging around in his head, fighting to be the focus. He dug his nails into the tree branch, trying to find something tangible to focus on, but everything _hurt_ so much he could barely tell the difference between the pain in his fingers and the pain in his head.

Something heavy and solid settled on his shoulder, and Merlin turned to it, barely able to make out Arthur’s worried gaze right in front of him.

Suddenly, Arthur’s voice broke through the mangled voices of the tormenting thoughts in Merlin’s head.

“Merlin!”

He winced away from Arthur, who dropped his hand and stepped back, mouthing his apologies. But he wasn’t mouthing, Merlin realized, his thoughts had just taken over again and blocked out Arthur.

Merlin stared at Arthur, forcing his blurry vision to settle something – _anything_. There was a hole in Arthur’s sleeve, and Merlin wondered if that had been there before. His mind quieted a bit and Merlin tried for something else – an old scar peeking out from Arthur’s collar – and finally his head was silent, and though his breath was still stuttering out of his lungs, Merlin was able to unclench his hands and slide to the ground, back resting against the tree.

“Merlin?” Arthur said quietly, drawing Merlin’s gaze. His breathing had settled, but everything was sore and heavy, Merlin knew he looked half asleep as Arthur’s eyes scanned him for injury.

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but Merlin interrupted him before he could start, pointing at a spot beside him. “Sit. Just sit, Arthur.” His voice was raspy and sand in his throat, but Arthur nodded and settled down at Merlin’s side.

Arthur sat with his knees up, arms braced around them, watching Merlin as laid against the tree, eyes closed and breathing slowly. Merlin was beginning to enjoy the silence until Arthur moved beside him, rustling leaves for a moment and then sitting in silence that was unlike what Merlin remembered.

Curious, Merlin peeked over at Arthur and found him staring. He raised his eyebrows and Arthur spoke immediately.

“What just happened?” His face was lined with worry, and Merlin noticed Arthur’s hand twitching, wanting to take Merlin by the shoulder and comfort him. Merlin wondered if his reaction when Arthur had put his hand there before was stopping him.

He sighed, leaning fully back against the tree again and looking out at the forest in front of them.

“I don’t know.” He answered. He hadn’t felt so helpless, so _vulnerable_ , like that for a very long time. Every bone felt rattled, and thinking about the experience made his heart pick up again.

“What do you mean _‘you don’t know_ ’?” Arthur asked incredulously, his words surprisingly biting. Merlin scoffed, and pressed the heel of his hand into his temple, frustration bubbling in his chest. “Merlin, it just happened to you, how do you _not_ –”

“ _Arthur.”_ Merlin snapped, whipping his head to glower at the man, although it made him dizzy again. He tried to hold the look, but a wave of exhaustion made him waver and he looked away, shaking his head.

Arthur turned away as well, shifting around looking for a comfortable spot, or to annoy Merlin, for a few moments until he slumped against the tree, arms crossed over his chest. He sighed heavily, unable to sit in silence for even a moment.

Merlin tried to wait him out, tapping his fingers on his leg to keep from looking over at Arthur, resolute to not give in to his childish behavior. He grit his teeth as Arthur let out another long, heavy sigh. And then another.

Merlin couldn’t help it.

“Stop it.”

Arthur froze, shoulders tensed, and Merlin waited, anticipating the inevitable outburst.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

Arthur clenched his jaw and turned further away from Merlin, glaring at the forest in front of him. He kept silent, foot tapping on the ground.

For a few moments, Merlin’s anger stewed in his gut and he was determined to avoid giving in to Arthur. He’d waited for him for fifteen hundred years, he could outlast the man’s stubbornness.

But the longer they sat in anger, each refusing to apologize, the more the pit in his stomach turned to stone and Merlin antsily wished for one of them to just end the pitiful argument – preferably Arthur.

But Merlin must have gotten soft in his old age and he shifted, laying out his legs in front of him and taking a deep breath, resting his head back against the tree. He heard Arthur’s foot pause, and Merlin felt the tips of his ears go hot. He’d gotten up the nerve, but what could he say?

Merlin glanced around, gnawing on his bottom lip, until he looked down the path they had taken to where they were. The path to Avalon. The path to…

“I didn’t get your armor.”

Arthur snorted and Merlin banged his head back, groaning, and grimaced at the slight sting from the bark. A vague memory of embarrassment surfaced and Merlin could not believe the patterns they were already falling back into.

Arthur was laughing now, though. Hard. Hunched over laughing that no amount of begging or hitting would make him stop.

Merlin resigned to sit in his misery, rolling his eyes as Arthur dramatically took great, big inhales to get himself under control and wiped a finger under his eyes. He looked back over his shoulder at Merlin, a wide grin stretched across his face and eyes bright with mirth.

Merlin raised his brows, “Quite finished?”

Arthur let out his last chuckles, and reached up to massage his jaw, shaking his head. Merlin furrowed his brows and cocked his head in question.

“Fifteen hundred years, Merlin,” Arthur side-eyes, breaking out into an even wider grin and Merlin braced himself, fighting his own smile “you’d think you could’ve learned how to be a proper servant.”

Merlin stared at Arthur pointedly and said, “You’re a prat.”

Arthur preened at the insult, as always, greatly unaffected and taking it as an ego _boost_. He wiggled in his seat, settling happily into his spot and teased, “You missed me.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, but didn’t dismiss the remark, smiling softly.

“Are you going to be okay?” Arthur asked kindly, still feeding off the pleasant atmosphere of their old habits.

“I don’t know.” Merlin said softly, staring at a low tree branch. Arthur nodded and said nothing more.


End file.
